


Hostage Negotiations

by wellhereweare



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aftercare, Codependency, Depression, Everyone Is An Adult, Extensive Self-Harming Thoughts, Fluff, Frank Talk of Pedophilia, Gentle Kidnapping, Gnc Trans Man Luke Triton, Hand Job, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Unbirthing, Vaginal Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 23:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30012693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellhereweare/pseuds/wellhereweare
Summary: Hershel won't agree to therapy, so Luke does what he can to change his mind, even if it's maybe not totally ethical.
Relationships: Hershel Layton/Luke Triton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Hostage Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Warning-  
> Luke is trans. He is gender non-conforming and uses "female" words for his anatomy.  
> While Luke is an adult here, their romantic relationship explicitly started when Luke was a child.  
> Luke somewhat brushes off how unethical their early relationship.  
> They are codependent, and while they're generally happy, they do not have a healthy or normal relationship.  
> Kidnapping a partner to win an argument

Luke knew before he went to work that Hershel was going to have a bad day. The man was cocooned in the bed, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn’t the first or last time even just that week, and Luke resolved to talk to him about therapy again.

They’d had the conversation regularly for a month and a half. Hershel waffled back and forth on it, his objections vague. Still, Luke had the creeping feeling he knew why he was acting the way he was about it.

There was no way to help Hershel’s mental health without addressing that he was a pedophile. The guilt and self loathing it caused hung heavily over the man, even before taking into account some of his dubious, if sexless decisions regarding Luke himself. There was only so much Luke could do to help, and it had started to get bad, the way it had when Luke was very young,

He was using his journals frequently.

Their lunch call was quiet, The way Hershel spoke was mechanical, low voice rolling tiredly from one syllable to the next. He admitted he still hadn’t eaten yet, and Luke encouraged him to try.

“I don’t want to eat.” He’d said. “I want to sleep, please.” 

Luke was anxious to get home. Thankfully, his last patient of the day ended up cancelling, so he could go home early. 

“Hershel?” He called stepping into the living room. The man was sitting in an overstuffed armchair. Still wearing his pajamas, he was staring blankly at his journal with red-rimmed eyes. “ _Hershel_...” 

The man looked up slowly, as though he lived at half time. The light fell differently on his face, and Luke could see his face was still streaked. Luke stepped close, gently wiping Hershel’s face with his hands. “Bad day?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. “You’ve been having a lot of those lately.”

There was a suspicion Luke didn’t want to address. He’d been a small child once, and Hershel had torn himself up over him just like this. It needed to be done though, and soon, but before he could ask, Hershel handed him the journal.

It was ugly, if not how he’d expected. Hershel’s beautiful writing, tight and shaky from emotion, plotted out a handful of deaths. Each was worse than the last, until it had shifted from simply killing himself to maiming himself so extensively it would kill him.

“I’m sorry.” Hershel rasped, and Luke kissed his forehead. He didn’t like seeing it, but he was glad the man remembered their agreement. The man’s mental health had never been good, so Luke had made Hershel promise to tell him if things got very bad, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. 

“It’s alright. Thank you for telling me.” Luke reassured him. “Did you hurt yourself?” Hershel shook his head. “I’m proud of you. We really need to set up an appointment, Hershel. You can’t go on like this.”

Hershel’s face jerked out of his hands.

“Luke, I know that you think it would be helpful for me, but it’s not possible.”

“ _Hershel_.” Luke said. His voice was sterner, and he could see Hershel falter for a moment before he shook his head. 

“I can’t.” He shook his head again. “Not right now, anyway. Let’s talk about this again in a few days, perhaps?” He smiled weakly.

“We’ve ‘talked about it later’ about four times now. Can you please at least explain why you’re so scared of this? I know you don’t want to explain, but you have to get over it. You need help, Hershel.” 

“It’s not that simple. Luke, you have to understand how simple it would be for someone to turn that sort of thing against me. We still have enemies, and goodness knows that I’ve done things that are…”

“You kissed me on the mouth once for my birthday.” Luke replied blandly. “It’s not great, but it’s not going to land you in jail more than a decade later. Hershel, this isn’t really why you’ve been putting therapy off, is it?”

“I’m not putting it off.” Hershel said, in a stern sad way that told Luke how scared he really was. “I’m not going.”

Luke hissed through his teeth. He could explain for hours why Hershel wasn’t really thinking about this, how he was letting his paranoia get the better of him, but it wouldn’t do anything when he was like this.

“Ok.” Luke said evenly. “This isn’t over, but I’m not going to argue with you about it. I’m going to change out of my work clothes.”

Hershel visibly relaxed, which made Luke feel a bit guilty about what he was plotting. Still, if Hershel needed a little encouragement to get over his hesitation, it had to be done.

His shower was quick, and he ruffled his hair dry quickly as he went through his clothes. He finally settled on a pretty white baby doll teddy that grazed the tops of his thighs and nothing else.

He did his make up. A soft smoky eye and pink lips, then he sauntered back into the living room. Hershel was sitting, fussing at the leather cover of his journal, but he looked up at the sound of Luke’s feet. Luke smiled playfully, enjoying the stunned look on the man’s face.

“It’s a shame we’ve been arguing.” He said, keeping his voice light. “I would be very nice if someone could go down on me.” He could feel Hershel’s eyes follow him as he swayed to the couch, stretching out with his legs lax.

“I’m not going to agree to therapy just for sex.” Hershel grumbled.

“I didn’t ask you to, even if I’d like it.” Luke reminded him gently. “I _was_ hoping you’d come over here, though.” In a moment, Hershel was on his feet, drifting close. Luke hooked his leg over the top of the couch, watching Hershel’s face go very intent.

He shot Luke a questioning look as he traced fingers over his thigh. Luke just smiled.

“Go on.”

Hershel settled between his legs, kissing up his thighs. Settling a hand in the man’s hair, Luke petted him softly. The man lapped at him, and Luke pressed his face in harder. Hershel groaned a little, as Luke moved his leg from the top of the couch to over Hershel’s back. 

Luke rolled his hips up into Hershel’s face, trapped closed, and took a deep breath. He pushed harder, forcing the man’s head inside him. Panting, he could feel Hershel stiffen as he realized what was happening, and Luke threw his other leg around him as well.

Hershel’s broad hands were braced on Luke’s ass, but when Luke pulled, he sank deeper. It hurt, a little, and it would get worse in a moment.

Another deep breath and Luke tugged on him harder. He began to stretch over Hershel’s sturdy shoulders. Head falling back, he gasped. He kept pulling despite the deep burn, taking short, sharp breaths. 

Hershel’s wiggling hurt, but it also helped drag him in until finally he’d breached past the widest part of his shoulders. Luke whined, but Hershel’s struggling was thankfully doing most of the work now.

It was a slow, sore drag that left his eyes scrunched shut and his toes curled into the cushions on the couch. Finally, he’d enveloped the man completely. He wheezed a little. His womb felt heavy, and the skin of his stomach was achy and tight. 

Taking a moment, Luke relaxed into the couch. He could feel Hershel shift. Not fighting, he thought, curling up. It was almost cute, that the man just accepted his situation. He _almost_ felt guilty, when he heard the man’s voice faintly.

“Luke?” It was muffled and muzzy, distant through layers of flesh and fat.

“We can’t keep on like this, Hershey.” Luke informed him. “You can come out when you agree to therapy.” It maybe wasn’t fair, but something had to break. He’d rather it not be Hershel’s mind.

Nothing, just the man twisting a little inside of him. It sent a jolt down his spine, and Luke patted his belly. It took several more minutes before Luke could bring himself to start getting up. He still hadn’t eaten, unfortunately. If he had, he’d be tempted to just nap stretched out on the couch and enjoy the way his body was buzzing.

He rolled up onto one arm, pushing himself upright. He felt heavy and awkward, trying to work around his now massive belly. Hershel wasn’t a large man, but he was a grown adult, one larger than Luke himself. He’d have to be careful.

Luke stood slowly, bracing himself on the couch arm. His legs shook under him. He needed dinner, then he could hobble to bed for a while. Taking a wobbly step, he remembered with a curse that he’d forgotten to actually get anything to make dinner with, hurrying to get home. He considered take out, briefly, but it didn’t seem fair when Hershel was _indisposed_. That risotto had been haunting him, anyway.

The bedroom was further than the kitchen, so Luke found himself leaning on walls and furniture as he shuffled towards it. He went over the ingredients he’d need as he made his way. They didn’t generally keep alcohol in the house, but the recipe he preferred called for white wine so he’d need a bottle. Parmesan, too, he thought as propped himself against the doorway. 

The door swung wide after a moment of fussing. Luke waddled in carefully and headed straight for the closet. The teddy he’d used for his plan was pulled tight around the top of his stomach, even though it had been pushed up by the struggling and the growth. His belly was too big for it at all. Instead, he had a summer dress with shirred chest and a generous 25 yard skirt. He couldn’t think of a better time for it. It took a moment to pull it over himself properly, the soft white fabric fluttering as he tugged it into place.

Heading to the front room was a little easier. He had a slightly better handle on how his balance had changed even if his legs were still unsteady. He snagged his wallet and a bag, before slipping on sandals and heading out.

The store wasn’t far, thankfully. Luke started to take a cart, hoping to lean on it as he did his shopping, but he realized as he reached for one that because of his stomach, he would have to hold it out at arm’s length. The man pouted, rubbing his belly absently, and reaching for a basket instead.

Forced to walk in tiny steps, this trip was going to take ages. For a moment, he wished he could ask Hershel to get a bottle of wine for him from one of the racks in the back of the store, but he supposed if he could, it wouldn’t be necessary to ask anyway. Luke sighed, pressing his hand firmly into his belly.

He decided to get the cheese first, tottering toward the deli. The parmesan was relatively cheap this week, so he got extra to use another night. He looked over the cheeses. Gruyère looked good, and the emmental, too. 

“Or perhaps, the raclette?” He asked the space beside him.

“Sir?” The woman working the counter was looking at Luke as if he’d lost his mind. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, oh, yes, apologies.” Luke pulled up his warmest grin. “Got a bit distracted is all, could I have a couple wedges of parmesan, please? That’s all.”

Her expression relaxed into something a bit friendlier, and she hurried away. It was a slow day, but the store was hardly empty. Still, for Luke, there was an air of barrenness, and he rubbed anxious circles over his heavy belly. 

She returned in a moment and passed him his cheese. He tucked it neatly into his basket and wished her a good evening, before tottering deeper into the store. Going to the store alone had never been his favorite activity, but he found it especially frustrating that he couldn’t ask what they needed that he might be forgetting even though Hershel was with him.

Finally, he came to the wines. He grimaced, looking at them. He wasn’t _terrible_ at wine. He certainly drank enough of it, now and then, but finding something good enough to use but not too good to drink was much harder than just picking up a clear bottle unfortunately. Pinot grigio, he thought but what kind?

Grumbling, he wished knew what he was doing, or at least that he’d paid more attention to what he was drinking. He reached for a particularly middling bottle with a picture of a clown cat when he could feel Hershel twist deep inside. The motion _rubbed_ deep inside, and the feeling almost dropped him to his knees.

He panted quietly, leaning against the heavy shelves. It wasn’t a bad sensation, but it was strange, startling. He wondered what Hershel was doing in there, what he thought of being caged by Luke’s body. 

He took the cat wine and dropped it into the basket. Whatever it was, he’d deal with it. The walk to the register seemed to take twice as long, and halfway through it, he realized he suddenly, desperately needed to pee. Holding a human inside would do that, though, Luke supposed. He made a face and waddled to the restroom, leaving his basket on the small bench outside. 

It was awkward, but the strangest was seeing himself in the mirror. Luke had never suffered from self esteem issues, but he found himself a bit enchanted with the way he looked just then. Caressing his belly, he wished Hershel could see it.

Ringing out was quick, except for the nasty look the cashier gave him over the wine until he clarified that he was not, in fact, pregnant. The ride home was perfectly, eerily silent. The house was, too, when he walked in. Especially unsettling was setting up to cook. Usually, Hershel would be bustling to make tea as he started, before pouring them both a cup and sitting down out of the way. Even on his bad days, he’d linger close.

“First, I’m going to grate this parmesan down.” He told Hershel as he cooked. Could the man even hear him? He’d barely spoken. “Actually, the first step is going to heat the broth so it’s already going, but _usually_ , I would do the cheese first but I’m just going to shave it really quick this time. Don’t move too much.”

He threw the broth into a saucepan with a little seasoning and let it heat up slowly. Unable to reach the cheesegrater or crawl onto a chair to grab it, he took a sharp knife and shaved the wedges down in quick strokes and chopped the ends into small pieces before setting it aside. 

Hershel, as if he was aware the moment Luke put the knife down, stretched and twisted inside him. Luke braced himself on the counter, knee weak. His belly ached, and lower too, he realized. It took until he heard the broth start to boil to pull himself back together. He turned it down a touch and poured himself a small glass of wine.

He drifted thoughtlessly from task to task, narrating each step, as he sliced and crushed and stirred, until he was adding in the cheese a few minutes before it would be done.

“If you just agree, Hershel, we can have a lovely dinner together.” Luke said, stirring carefully. “You like my risotto, and it smells _delicious_.” He coaxed, taking a small sip of the wine. “It’s going to be very good this time.” He’d have to remember to get this kind again.

There was again resounding silence.

Luke finished it up and ladled out a generous portion on a plate just for himself. The dinner table just wasn’t high enough to bother trying, so he sidled into the living room. Sinking in the couch, he propped his plate on his wide belly. He took a bite and groaned appreciatively. 

“I’m quite the cook.” He informed the empty space shaped like his husband. “Are you sure you don’t want to come out? All you have to do is agree to therapy.” It really was very good, but eating alone dampened his enjoyment. He pouted at his plate.

“No, I’m quite alright.” Luke felt more than heard and scowled at his plate.

Luke powered through his dinner in big gulps. He’d served himself more than he’d intended, but he grumpily ate all of it. It didn’t make him feel better, just even more overfull and achy.

He set the plate aside and tried to relax. The tension that had been growing since he first slipped on the teddy had become too strong to ignore, buzzing through his body all afternoon. Luke found himself absently rubbing at his chest and wondered what it would look like if it matched his stomach. Hershel, he thought with a creeping smile, would probably be delighted. 

Luke’s hands slipped lower, but he reencountered a genuinely large obstacle. He couldn’t touch himself around his broad, heavy belly. It took a minute to heave himself up off the sofa and much longer to waddle to the bedroom.

They had a decent collection of toys, but he passed over anything penetrative. He didn’t think he could handle anything else inside him at the moment. It took a bit of searching to find a long handled wand, one big enough to reach.

It was an old model, strong and corded. Luke plugged it in and spent a few minutes building up the bed before throwing off his sundress and crawling in. He was almost shaking with anticipation.

He flicked on the wand and felt Hershel shift.

“Luke?” His muddled voice drifted up from so deep inside.

“That got your attention.” Luke laughed low. “Sorry, but since I’m alone, I have to take care of myself somehow, Hershey.”

“I agreed to help earlier.” The man managed to sound a little petulant, but Luke just rested the firm end of the vibrator against himself lightly, moaning.

Just being touched was so good, he dug his toes into the bed. He moved it in careful circles, each a little firmer than the last until the broad blunt head was tracing around his clit. He almost couldn’t hear Hershel over his own panting, but the man was persistent.

“Luke, please. This isn’t fair. Let me out.”

“Are you going to therapy?” Luke asked, grinning at the ceiling. There was something about getting to hear Hershel, to talk with him, that made this all the better. Luke had a mission, but this captive audience, longing for more, it was fun. “Because if not...” He pushed the wand harder against himself, until his whole body twitched.

He could sense Hershel’s conflict in the silence as clearly as if he could see the man’s face. Luke could trace the curve of his frown and the furrow of his brow from memory alone. Moaning, he teased himself with the wand, rubbing it in slow circles over him. 

“Luke, please...” Hershel called, voice barely audible, but Luke kept going until he shook. His body squeezed around Hershel and wondered if it was driving the man wild, feeling it all around him. The thought sent Luke higher.

“Oh, god, _Hershel_.” He whined as he came, head falling back hard against the pillows. He laid panting in the aftermath, enjoying each spasm.

“Please, Luke, please, I want to come out now.” Luke heard distantly. It took a long moment to process.

“You know what you have to do.” He coaxed, voice still husky with arousal. The silence stretched tense.

“I have a condition.” Hershel sounded embarrassed, and Luke waited. After another moment, the man explained. “I want to do something like this afternoon, again.”

“You want to get swallowed by my womb for-” Luke turned his head to quickly check the clock. “Almost three hours again?” He felt a bit bad, he thought the man would have caved a while ago. I suppose now I know why it took so long, he thought faintly amused. “I can do that for you.” 

“I will attend psychotherapy, if you arrange it.” He sounded as if he’d volunteered for execution, but it was an agreement.

“It’ll be easier to get out if you can go head first.” Luke said and felt the man rearrange himself. He took a deep breath and another and began to push. The aching muscles protested being stretched so thoroughly once more, but Hershel’s crown breached after a few moments. It was easier this time, but still he found himself pressing his toes into the bed, breathing in sharp uneven gasps and high grunt.

Hershel’s shoulders sliding out sent electricity up his spine. Hershel wiggled, freeing an arm, and Luke whined a little, as the man started to help. He pushed and pulled in time with Luke’s body until finally, he was completely free of Luke’s body.

Luke moaned, loudly. There was relief and a sort of pleasure in it. When he finally managed to pry open his eyes, he found a slightly slimy and visible aroused Hershel carefully inspecting his own hands.

“I want...” The man started, stopped. He seemed to change his mind. “I slept inside.” There was a lot to unpack in his tone, Luke was sure, but it had been a stressful enough day for both of them. If the man wanted to share, he would listen, but for now, he was done pushing.

“Is that why you were so quiet? I was starting to miss you.” Luke kept his voice gentle, shifting onto his side and opening up his arms. “Come up here. Come let me take care of you.”

The man glanced up, tension draining away as he crawled up the bed to lay snuggled against Luke. I’ll change the bedding, while he’s in the bath, Luke decided as he ran his fingers over Hershel’s damp hair. He kissed the man’s forehead, his cheek, the edge of his mouth. 

Hershel made a quiet, needy noise and pressed close. Luke danced a hand lightly down his body. The man pleaded in half words and nuzzled close, so Luke opened his trousers and slipped his hand inside. His cock felt painfully hard in Luke’s hand.

Luke didn’t bother to teased him, just stroked him and petted his hair as he whimpered into Luke’s neck. It didn’t take long until he was shaking, emptying himself into Luke’s hand. The orgasm seemed more a relief than a pleasure, like it allowed him to finally empty everything out. 

He looked drowsy and worn, when Luke pulled away. 

“Hershey,” Luke coaxed in his softest voice. “Let’s get you a bath and then we can go to bed a bit early today, alright? We can worry about everything else in the morning.” The man nodded and smiled a little when Luke kissed him.


End file.
